“This is my Island in the Sun, where my people have toiled since time began, I may sail on many a sea, her shores will always be home to me. Oh, Island in the Sun, willed to me by my father’s hands, all my days I will sing in praise, of your forests, waters, your shining sand.” ~ Irving Burgie.
Those words made popular by Harry Belafonte, should mean more than just being a song made famous by one of our own. James Baldwin, an American laureate, coined the phrase: “If you know from whence you came. There are absolutely no limitations to where you can go.”
One would think that we in Anguilla, having known from whence we came, would have an entirely different perspective on life. Sadly, that doesn’t seem to be the case. It hasn’t been for quite some time. An article in this paper, entitled: “Our Five Star Destination: Anguilla or the Resorts,” caught my eye.
And while I was somewhat shocked that the person chose not to identify himself/herself, I wholeheartedly agreed with what was said. As the saying goes, someone who had the balls to call a spade a spade ought to be commended.
As Anguillians, we are famous for throwing stones and hiding our hands. I want the author to know that given the current litigious atmosphere in Anguilla, where if you open your mouth just to ask a question of our cowardly thin-skinned politicians, you will be SLAPPed—a tool that’s used to silence and intimidate their critics. Is that who we are? That we can’t even ask a question without fear of being silenced? We couldn’t wait for the change. This is ridiculous, SLAPP being utilised in Anguilla. My – how times have changed.
It is true that Anguilla, once the darling of the rich and famous, is still that, but most of the patina has faded. We are still the preferred watering hole of the well-heeled. A visit to our faux international airport on any given day will attest to that by the number of private jets parked there. Our five-star resorts are second to none, our culinary arts are tops, our azure blue waters and white sandy beaches are second to none, and our most precious resource, our people – in terms of hospitality deserve a king’s ransom. In other words, when it comes to resorts, we are simply the best. When it comes to our ow, now that’s a different kettle of fish.
So, one can understand the problem that the writer has with the flip side of the Anguillian who caters to the Champagne Wishes of the tourist, but once outside of the resorts, an entirely different scenario emerges. It’s as though someone ripped the bandage off a festering sore. One doesn’t like what comes out.
One then must ask: how did we get to be so bad so soon? What happened? Perhaps a little history is needed to put things into perspective, to understand how we got to this point, so bear with me. As I said earlier, to know where you are going, you must learn from whence you came, a variation on Mr. Baldwin’s assertion. I can go a step further and quote the Cheshire Cat from Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland,” who said to Alice, “if you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.” Do we know where we are going?
From our inception, we were an island, a people that time forgot. In his book, “An Overcrowded Barracoon,” V.S. Naipaul said of us: “For more than two hundred years, in fact, no one really wanted Anguilla, or had known what to do with it. The place was a mistake.” He continues: “The Anguillians have lived for too long like a shipwrecked community.”
Left to fend for itself, Anguilla had no industry, paved roads, electricity, piped water, or port facilities. Health, sanitation, and education facilities were grossly inadequate. (Colville Petty).
Simply put, Anguilla lacked the modern conveniences of everyday living, the things others took for granted. Long story short, we had had enough. We told the governor general that, “a people can only live without hope for so long before erupting socially.” “We had written letters to just about anyone who would lend an ear, and all to no avail. Heck, we even wrote to Queen Victoria. The last letter that we wrote was to the Governor General of the Leeward Islands in Antigua, whom we petitioned in 1958 to “make every exertion which lies within your power to bring about the dissolution of the present political and administrative association of Anguilla and St. Kitts.” (Colville Petty).
The article to which I referred, highlights a host of issues that have faced us for the longest while. The writer captures the true essence of Anguilla, who and what we are as a people. We deliver five-star service to the well-heeled tourist who will spend the almighty dollar. However, away from the resorts, a different Anguilla emerges.
We have been at this experiment of nation-building for some fifty-five years, and we are no closer to the goal now than we were when we started this journey.
In his article, “The Role of Cultural Identity in Anguilla’s National Development,” Don Mitchell says that “Anguillian culture changed with the development of upmarket tourism. The Anguillian economy was catapulted from the 19th century into the 21st century, hardly stopping for the 20th century. The result is Anguilla’s modern socio-political culture is new and unsettled. There has not been enough time for binding conventions and new social structures to develop. Anguillian culture may be said to be essentially that of a Frontier Society, unsettled, shifting, brash and unruly.”
Be that as it may, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question becomes, who is to blame? Why is it that our people behave one way toward the tourist, but when it comes to us, the locals, they treat us with scorn? Could it be that we got too much too soon? In his book, “Where There is a Will, there is a Way,” Petty said that the Wooding commission concluded that the reason for our rebellion was “the disability of having no political responsibility. When the Vestry was disbanded, the people had no opportunity to learn politics.”
So, there you have it. We didn’t have a chance to learn anything because everything was being done for us, and now we are expected to behave in a certain way. The British failed to introduce us to the principles of good governance, and yet they have high expectations of us. Once again, we were left to make it up as we went along, and yet they expect us to conform to principles that we were never taught. We, Anguillians, have been spoiled. We walk around with the “I born here chip” on our shoulder, and therefore I’m entitled.
Our anonymous author has brought Anguilla’s ugly little secret to the forefront. We have lots of issues. We don’t like it when someone calls us out, even if that someone is one of us. This is the opportunity for us to take stock, stop the petty bickering, and engage the people. I’m speaking to the government now – stop being a stuffed shirt.
Anguilla is described as “Tranquility Wrapped in Blue”. Our moniker that once stood for something other than our azure blue seas, sandy beaches, culinary arts, and wonderful people, now represents something of a more sinister nature. Today, we mirror Charles Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities.” One Anguilla caters to the Rich and Famous, and the other treats its own with scorn.
It is said that a fish rots from the head. So, on whose head do we place the blame for the quagmire in which we now find ourselves? After all is said and done, can we still claim Anguilla as our “Island in the Sun?” We have lots of work to do. Let’s thank our friend who wrote the article and calling our attention to a festering sore. Till next time, may God bless us, and may He continue to bless Anguilla.
